I was sitting on the deck drinking iced tea dreaming of summer fun when my wife, Barbara, wandered over to a chaise lounge chair and spread out a towel, laid down on her belly, facing away from me and started to soak up the first warm day of spring.
Admiringly, I watched her as her skin glowed in the afternoon sun. The gentle curves of her body playing shadow games with the sun beginning at her feet, flowing gracefully over her ankles to calves that appeared curvaceous, but were actually quite small, just well defined. Most people's knees were not very attractive; knobby, scarred, or dimpled in the back. Barbara's knees were small, almost dainty; they blended her calves to her thighs perfectly as they formed rather slender, and then arched seemingly forever, finally joining her small, boyish hips.
As her tiny waist joined her lower back the sun danced on the beads of sweat like a thousand precious stones brilliantly glimmering a bright white light that seemed to glow all the brighter as it reflected from her pale, exposed skin. The lithe form of her back as it held the sun on one side and shadow on the other softly pressed against the pair of full breasts, squeezing them, outwards from under her chest making them appear even larger in the bright sun.
I sat and watched her and reminisced about how lucky I was to have such a trophy wife. Smiling, I recalled how popular she was in high school, and how her first boy friend was Tony, the quarterback for the football team. He was the complete stud; good looks, muscles, great hair and a devil may care attitude. He was always in trouble and her father made them break it off.
Of the boy friends I was aware of, Tony was the only one that I knew for sure she had sex with. I had been at a school dance when upon leaving, I observed them going at it behind the cars in the parking lot. She was screaming as he gave it to her good. I never asked her about her other sexual experiences. I thought I was the luckiest guy in town when she asked me to start dating her just one day after we graduated.
We dated all through college. I knew she was seeing others from time to time and the thought of her with other men did bother me, so I proposed to her to take her off the market and we set a wedding date, just after my graduation from college. I had yet to meet her father, so she rushed me to her parents house for dinner one night and introduced me eagerly to her father, explaining how 'smart' I was, and how I planned on becoming a 'CPA'. I felt as if she was trying to convince her father that she had made a good catch. She seemed to be trying too hard though, and I was just a little concerned.
Later, after dinner, her father pulled me into his study, had me sit and he talked of his 'little girl' and how her many previous suitors had been losers and no-account bums. He made it very clear that he was not convinced by her lavish praise of me. I made it clear that my intentions were honorable and his concerns would be dispelled when I sat for my CPA exam and demonstrated my mettle.
He squinted one eye, thought deeply for a moment, then thrust out his right hand, offering a hand shake, saying, "You better young man. My daughter has a penchant for picking up losers, but I'll give you this chance to prove yourself."
Grasping his hand and shaking it, I couldn't help but wonder what I had gotten into. Over the next few months I was able to surmise that her father had disapprovingly run off every boyfriend she had ever had. It also became apparent that I was 'chosen' as a geek that could make daddy happy. Well, I thought of the other guys, their loss is my gain.
Her mother talked very little to me before we were married. However, a short time after Barbara and I tied the knot, her mother confided in me, rather casually, that she was glad I had 'straightened Barbara out' because the other 'boys' were after only one thing and that Barbara seemed only too happy to oblige them. I asked her how many boys her husband had run off, she shrugged and didn't commit to a number, just a "Few."
We had been married six years now, six wonderful years. She was always the dutiful wife, never a cross word was uttered toward, or about me. I loved her deeply and completely. I truly believed she loved me also.
"Can you?" I heard someone talking. "Dave, earth to Dave, can you put lotion on my chest?" Barbara was asking me for assistance.
"Sure honey." I said as I smiled.
She was now on her back. The chaise lounge had left little wrinkles across her skin where the material had bunched under her as she lay face down. I enjoyed plying her with lotion; it was so erotic to me. Barbara never really needed much sex. Of course, I wasn't the greatest lover either so it just made sense that our love life was routine, and very uninspired.
At times like this I allowed myself to think of how it might have been different if I was an athletic stud type. I never shared these erotic thoughts with her, she seemed content without them. Looking down at my protruding belly and stiffening erection, I wondered if she saw me the way I saw myself.
"That's enough." I heard.
"Dave, that's enough. What's gotten into you today? You seem so distant." Barbara was saying.
"Oh, I was just day dreaming honey." I said, with a sigh.
"Well, you better pick up your suit at the cleaners for the reunion dinner tonight." She reminded.
We were attending our ten-year high school reunion dinner tonight. Time had flown. Barbara didn't look twenty-eight. She had changed little since high school. I couldn't wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when they found out I had married Barbara, the prettiest girl in school. Since we lived quite far from the old school we had made motel reservations so as not to have a long drive back after the reunion.
